To think that she’d mentioned to Dutch that if she’d been cleared to fly she would’ve gone “home” to France.
She’d actually told him that then she wouldn’t be a burden to him. Maybe not to him, but she certainly would have been a burden to her parents. She always had been.
The nannies with whom they’d left her weren’t much better. They all saw her as a spoiled brat, when nothing could’ve been further from the truth. She was more feral than spoiled.
Years ago, when Mantis surprised her by taking her to Paris, she’d told him they’d disowned her when she left for America and the Air Force Academy. The truth was, they’d never had much more than a passing interest in her to begin with.
; It was evident by where they lived and the life they led, that her family had a great deal of money—how much, she didn’t know. Other than their gift of the apartment in New York City, she had been expected to earn her own way.
While her father had made arrangements for her to be flown to Boston via medical helicopter, it likely had far less to do with her than it did him and her mother. They would’ve been greatly inconvenienced if they’d had to make the four-hour drive with her.
She waited for her mother to come back into the room so she could ask her again about her phone, but after an hour passed, she assumed that her parents had gone to their hotel. It remained to be seen whether they came back tonight. She wasn’t optimistic nor was she surprised that they’d left without saying goodbye.
She closed her eyes and thought about how hurt Mantis looked earlier when she’d all but shunned him. Her treatment of him was no better than her parents’ treatment of her.
Why, knowing how much their behavior hurt her, did she find herself acting much like they did so often? One would think she’d do the exact opposite.
Now she didn’t even have the means to call and apologize to Mantis or let him know where she was. Had someone at the other hospital told him she’d been moved? Did he know where?
Alegria felt trapped, like she was a prisoner in this room and in her own body. If she willed him to come and rescue her, would he? Or would he think she’d left so he wouldn’t know where she was, and would he doubt if she wanted to see him?
When she drifted to sleep, she didn’t dream about Mantis. She dreamed of Dutch.
It was dark, and she could barely see. Why didn’t she have a night vision devise with her? She looked down and saw that instead of clothing, she wore a hospital gown. She couldn’t feel her feet, and when she bent farther to look at them, she saw she didn’t have any. It was as though her legs had simply faded into nothing rather than ending in stumps where her feet used to be.
“Dutch?” she called out into the darkness.
“Over here,” he called back. “But keep your voice down.”
She put her hands out in front of her and made her way in the direction of his voice.
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned. “They’ll kill you.”
“What about you? Won’t they kill you too?”
“I’m already dead, Flygirl.”
She woke with a cry when she felt a band tighten on her arm and tried to wrench it away.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said the nurse. “That’s the blood pressure cuff.” The nurse loosened it, pulled a chair closer to the bed, and took Alegria’s wrist in her hand. “Your pulse is racing,” she said. “Take a few deep breaths and try to calm yourself down. You had a nightmare.”
Was it a nightmare? It had felt so real.
When the nurse stood and brushed against her leg, Alegria gasped.
“What?”
“I felt that!” she exclaimed. “I felt your hand on my leg.”
The nurse reached over Alegria, turned on the overhead light, and moved the sheet and blanket so she could see Alegria’s legs.
“Close your eyes,” she told her. “Can you feel that?”
Alegria nodded. It was faint, but she could feel it.
“Where are my fingers?”